


No One's Ever Really Gone

by Fairleigh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, Force Ghost Luke Skywalker, Ghost Sex, Loss, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairleigh/pseuds/Fairleigh
Summary: No one’s ever really gone.That’s what her brother said to her on Crait before the end, and she knows it’s true. It’s just … it’s just that it’s not the same.





	No One's Ever Really Gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).

It’s not easy, rebuilding the Resistance from the ground up. General Leia Organa is glad there are other, younger hands hard at work.

When she was younger than they are now, she had her parents and the brave people of Alderaan. When she was their age, she had her friends and fellow freedom fighters. She had Luke and Han.

Now, her parents are gone; Alderaan is gone; and she’s all but lost her son. Too many of her friends have died on her watch. Even Luke and Han — they’re dead and gone, too.

So many. She can hardly reckon with the losses. Then new people appear to fill the empty spaces — until they’re lost, too. Sometimes, even (or perhaps especially) when she’s surrounded by a crowd of vaguely familiar faces and realizes that she can’t remember any of their names, Leia feels so very, very alone.

_No one’s ever really gone._ That’s what her brother said to her on Crait before the end, and she knows it’s true. It’s just … it’s just that it’s not the same.

He only comes to her when she is truly alone. No one else can be near. She doesn’t know why, not for certain, but she suspects it’s because this is the only time that her head is clear enough to perceive him.

They talk sometimes. He says nothing she doesn’t already know. More often, though, he says nothing in words and instead allows his actions to speak for themselves.

Parts of it feel real. Achingly real. The scratchiness of his beard when he nuzzles her, the wetness of his tongue, and the sharp, slick edges of his teeth when he kisses her. His hands, one flesh and one metal, as they grasp her hips to steady her as she wraps her legs around his waist. His cock, the puckered tip of the foreskin tightening and slipping back as he rubs himself against her, pleasing her, opening her —

He enters her in one long, slow stroke, and she groans as he presses against her cervix. She pulls him down on top of her as he begins to thrust. Liquid pleasure. This is one part that doesn’t feel quite real. Luke is of the Force, and he fills her not with flesh but with pure, luminous energy. Leia is too old to take a flesh and blood lover this painlessly, this effortlessly.

Thus the weight of his body on hers is not enough to crush her. Thus when he buries his face into the crook of her neck, his panting breaths do not tickle her. Nor does he sweat, and no salt droplets rain onto her upturned face to mingle with her hot tears that blur her sight of his blue-tinged shape.

Still. The stretch and the friction feel lovely, and there is only pleasure — only sweetness. They flex and heave in perfect unison, and they fit together like they were born to be joined like this in carnal union. Maybe they were. Despite being twins. Or perhaps _because_ they are twins. This is not an easy thought to have, but it doesn’t feel untrue.

She comes with a shudder and a soft whimper. Luke freezes for a moment, adding his completion to hers. When he withdraws, there is little fluid. No messiness, no need to clean up. It’s silly, to be put out by the lack of inconvenience, but without it, the afterglow doesn’t quite feel real, either.

“I miss you,” she says as her inner muscles clamp down on emptiness.

“I know,” he replies.

Ah, if only. Leia knows Luke’s not really gone, but it’s not the same, and she can’t help but wish he were more _here_.


End file.
